


Gladdened Laws of Peace.

by TayBartlett9000



Category: Blackadder, Historical RPF
Genre: Christmas, Companionship, December 1914, Football, Friendship, Gen, Peace, Soldiers, Songs, The Meaning of Christmas, War, World War 1, christmas truce, comradship, games on the battlefield, good will
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-11
Updated: 2018-12-11
Packaged: 2019-09-16 13:44:56
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,970
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16955157
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TayBartlett9000/pseuds/TayBartlett9000
Summary: It is Christmas eve, 1914. Blackadder is surprised when the German soldiers  rise from their own trenches and step across No Man's land, seeming to desire a sense of peace between the Germans and the allies on this, the holiest night of the year. Though those in power do not wish the two sides to meet on  friendly terms,  even in war, the idea  of peace on Earth and good will towards all men is still strong.





	Gladdened Laws of Peace.

December, 1914.

“They say that the war will all be over in a few days time.”

Edmund Blackadder sat in  stupefied silence, listening as politely as he could as George prattled on and on about an issue that had long since become disinteresting. His  voice was grating on Blackadder’s nerves, but he sat patiently,   his gun resting upon his lap and his eyes scanning the square of light above him which was the  patch of sky above their trench. The low  rumble of the cannons had  percisted  all day and he was growing tired. The snow was slanting down from the purple skies overhead and  he wondered for the fifth time that day  when  this bloody war maskerading as a game of glorious opportunity would end.

Four long months. That was how long the war had dragged on for. Four long, terrible months spent hunkered down in the trench, firing at nothing in particular and trying his best not to be killed.  All people around him were optimistic. Everyone was saying that the war was  soon to  end. ‘The war will be over by Christmas.’ That was what people were saying.

Well, it was Christmas eve night and still, this war was showing no signs of grinding to a halt, be that halt victorious or otherwise.

Darkness fell quickly in Winter, even in  Flanders and pretty soon, Blackadder’s trench was bathed in moonlight, the silver trails of celestial light drifting down from the ink black sky as the snow continued to fall. Baldrick and George’s spirits remained undampened by either the weather or the continuous rumbling of those cannons, but Blackadder sat motionless, finger still held against the trigger of his gun incase the orders came for his team to spring into action. Said orders had not been sent as yet, thankfully. The orders had been given to simply remain out of sight for as long as he and his small group could and to keep quiet. He didn’t mind that. Keeping quiet and staying out of the way suited him down to the ground.

On the other side of the long line of trenches, Hubert Gerhart sat at the entrance to his own trench while the rest of his  unit lerked behind him, reveling in a well earned break and a game of cards as  the sun set and the moon illuminated the darkened sky above his head. It was cold outside and Hubert felt glad, not for the first time, that there trench  was equipt with electricity. Having electric  light served them well on  the long cold nights in Flanders and the lack of darkness made him  feel slightly more secure.

“Fancy a sing song, Captain Gerhart,” asked  one  of his Lieutenants, a smart  young man who had arrived in Gerhart’s camp a mere few  weeks ago and was already popular with their unit.

Hubert Gerhart nodded. “Well, it is Christmas,” he agreed, “what song should we go for? Pick one.”

A short spell of silence fell as the  men pondered over the selection of Christmas songs that were available to them, and then, the men in the illuminated trench began to sing.

“Silent night,” they sang in perfect unison and almost  perfect harmony, “holy night, all is calm, all is bright.”

Captain Gerhart smiled as the words of the  familiar  song reached his ears. He lifted his head towards the distant patch of sky above his head  and joined in the song. “Round yon virgin, mother and child, holy infant so tender and mild, sleep in heavenly peace. Sleep in heavenly peace.”

Baldrick cried out as the words of ‘Silent Night’ drifted across the crisp night air. “Captain, sir,” he said joyfully, moving  swiftly to Blackadder’s side and forcing him to pay attention, “the Germans are singing. Listen to them, Captain.”

Blackadder looked up, face breaking into a tight lipped smile as he to heard the words. He had not smiled in days and yet the simple words of that melody was warming his heart, despite the fact that said words were being crooned by the enemy.

George was humming along with the tune as the  words rose around them, seeming to be sung by more than  just the Germans across the way. “The British and French are singing too, sir,” he said brightly, “they seem to want to celebrate Christmas too. Can we sing along too, sir?”

Reluctantly, Blackadder  acquiesced. “If you must,” he grunted.

Baldrick, George and eventually Blackadder himself, broke into song, adding their voices to  the melay around him. The  act of singing seemed so natural, even though they were sharing the activity with the Germans. “Silent night, holy night, all is calm, all is bright. Round yon virgin, mother and child, holy infant so tender and mild. Sleep in heavenly peace, sleep in heavenly peace.”

Loud voices exploded overhead,  causing Blackadder, Baldrick and even George to look up. They caught snatches of conversation,  words  spoken in English and  also in German.

“I don’t believe it,” Blackadder said in auhed fascination, “I cannot  bloody believe it. The Germans have come out of their trenches.”

“Not only that,” George said in surprise, “the guns have stopped. The swine have stopped firing at us. Can you believe that?”

Frankly, Blackadder could not believe that either. The Germans and the allies had kept   their  distance from each other  ever  since this complex web of trenches had been built. The higher ups had not at all wished them to ‘fratanise with each other,’ but apparently, their attempts to keep    a degree of distence between the fighting armies had failed. The Germans had stepped across  No Man’s Land and were conversing with the British and French in tones that reflected politeness, even amusement.

“We should go and see what is happening up there,” Blackadder said calmly, rising to his feet and laying his gun down upon the filthy ground. He didn’t think he would need it once he  reached the top of the  trench. No guns had been fired, and he suspected that no guns would be fired this night. The idea of good will and peace towards all men was apparently being kept up, even during this troubled time.

The   three men, Edmund Blackadder, George and Baldrick   climbed  towards  the sound of those voices. They could now hear  laughter, honest, happy laughter  ringing through the Winter night. They none of them had heard the sound of genuine laughter in too long a time and that sweet sound brought smiles onto every face.

As Blackadder and his fellow soldiers emerged into the  open air, they were greeted with applaws and cheers from the other side of the long line of trenches. “Greetings,  my friend,” one German soldier said brightly, striding across  the churned up soil of No Man’s Land and  shaking Blackadder’s hand viggerously. He spoke in heavily accented English but without callaceness.

“Good evening,” Blackadder said warily, unsure as yet why the Germans were behaving in a manner that was so unlike them, “I must say, this is a surprise.”

What the German officer said next would shake Edmund Blackadder to his very core. “Well,”  he said without a trace of  malice or unkindness, “it is Christmas eve after all. I know  the men above us don’t seem to wish us to interact with each other, but ther is no reason why the laws of peace to all men  should not apply to us, even if  we are all at war. I do hope you can accept my offers of friendship.”

 The German soldier held out his hand and after a  short, slightly  distrustful pause, Blackadder took it and shook it,  taking the officer up on his desires for a  truse this Christmas. It was a   strained sense of companionship in that few moments, but it was real all the same.

The night passed in merriment and  laughter, with the soldiers from both sides  swapping jokes and  memories of times before  the war that had torn so many lives apart. Blackadder and the German officer who had made peace with him  stood talking long into the night and well into  the next  morning as if  the two sides hadn’t been trying to annihilate each other just the previous evening.

As the sun rose above Flanders, the men from both sides of what would later be called ‘The Great War’ took to the war ravaged soil of No Man’s Land with a football, a smile and a willingness to participate in some friendly competition.

 Blackadder waited on the sidelines for a while, wondering again at this sudden display of comradeship and pondering the reasons behind it. The higher ups would not be happy when their collective mutany was reported to the bosses back in Berlin, Paris,  London and the rest of the war’s capitals. They would not like it, that was for sure. Blackadder watched the Germans and the British playing  football against each other, laughing uproariously as the sun spread its light and warmth over the two lines of trenches. For once since this awful war had started  in August, the guns were silent and the air was filled instead with a flying football and the sounds of joyful laughter.

The German officer who had approached him the evening before, a man whom Blackadder now knew as Captain Hubert Gerhart, strode across to him and said, “coming to join in the  game? We are  needing another player for our side.”

Blackadder did not pause for thought this time before agreeing. “Indeed,” he said in a  brighter voice, “I would be happy to join you.”

“Great.”  Captain Hubert Gerhart looked at him seriously for a moment and he shook his head as if deep in thought. “You seem a fine  fellow, Captain Blackadder,” Gerhart said kindly, glancing from Blackadder’s face and then at the people lined  up on both sides of the make shift football  pitch. “You are a fine fellow indeed, my friend.”

Blackadder smiled. “And you seem like a nice man yourself, Captain.”

Gerhart nodded. “I do wish  we were not  at war,” he said gravely, “I mean, our two sides. I wish we were not  forced to kill each other. I wish our two sides had met in better circomstances. I am sure that we would have built up a solid friendship between each other, had we not been expected to kill each other.  Nobody suspected we would have to keep  the killing up for so long, you know. At least, I certainly did not suspect it.”

“Neither did I,” admitted Captain Blackadder, “but I suppose that the  people in charge are the ones who will decide what we shall do at the end of the day. All we can do is try to do our best.”

Hubert Gerhart shifted his  gaze once again to Blackadder and  nodded. “At least we have this day,” he said happily, “at least we have this short spell of time. Come, good sir. Let’s see if  we can be victorious in this game. Happy Christmas, Captain  Blackadder.”

“Happy Christmas,” Blackadder  replied.

The two men  stepped -pped forth into No Man’s Land, glad for this single day  when no spirits, even the spirits of soldiers, could be tarnished. The  desire  for peace  on this  day ran strong  through their veins. This was what the day of Christ’s birth really meant. Though both sides knew that they would have to again take up their weapons when this day was over, they had managed to halt the blood shed for a while at least.

Peace on Earth, and good will towards all men. That message would echoe around No Man’s Land for days,  even years to come, for that innicial understanding  that neither side  wished to be at war would be remembered for years into the future, and remembered by everyone concerned.  

**Author's Note:**

> I have always been interested in the Christmas truce of 1914. The message of good will towards all men was so strong that it brought a war to a temparory halt. But it would never be allowed to happen again. The political leaders of the war hadn't wished for the two sides to meet in this way and future Christmases during the great war would be spent fighting. I am fascinated in this moving historical event because it really does show what Christmas should be about, being kind and decent to each other.


End file.
